Rogue
by livelongtime
Summary: Miss Harrison find herself kidnapped by a handsome pirate.


Mmkay this is something I started one night and kinda sorta never finished. I figured I'd post and see if I get some feedback. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**_England, 1707_**

Jude swept her tangled mass if blonde curls into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She frowned thoughtfully as she stared at her pale reflection through the looking glass. Growing up with three sisters and a brother known for his tendencies towards debauchery had hardly helped society recognize her family as conventional. The Harrisons had always been an eccentric group, stating strong opinions in the wrong company and discussing politics over dinner. The London community scarcely paid recognition to them and the fact didn't bother Jude in the slightest. She released a heavy sigh as she reached inside her armoire, carefully selecting her favorite piece. An exquisite sapphire embedded with golden ambers and tiny diamonds twinkled up at her. It was her past, present, and future encompassed in a single sparkling oval.

Since birth, Jude had been promised to the noble Gabriel York, a man whose wealth nearly surpassed his selfish and wicked disposition. His politics proved worthy enough for a respectable seat in society, but not within Judes heart. She was accustomed to speaking her mind yet the moment she opened her mouth, Gabriel would scowl and hush her at every opportunity. "You're to become my wife," he would whisper, "By God present yourself with a little more elegance." The thought of laying next to him every night and exchanging false caresses made her cringe. She could never love a man who loved his coin more.

A sharp knock shook Jude from her thoughts. She stood, balancing her breakfast tray on one hip and a collection of papers on the other.

"I've finished with the documents and breakfast was quite delici-" Jude began.

"Oh, Jude! You'll never believe the news I have!" Bridget, the youngest Harrison, burst into the room in a bustle of skirts. Stopping briefly to adjust her frock, she smiled awkwardly up at Jude.

For a young girl of only fifteen, Bridget was just coming to experience her first season and every bit of shocking news that her eager ears heard was quickly passed on. Most of the time the facts were altered, generally to amplify Bridgets personal excitment.

Pulling her sister towards a nearby settee, the two sat down as Jude tucked a a stray pin back into Bridgets plaited chignon.

"Now what has you enthused?" Jude asked, a crooked grin playing on her lips.

"It seems that your Mr. York has found himself in quite a scandal, " Bridget replied. Her hazel eyes and rosy complexion seemed to brighten as she awaited her older sisters reaction.

Jude pursed her mouth into a thin line, a curious frown forming between her uplifted brows.

"Do tell."

Bridget blinked once, twice. "Well, it all began at Lord and Lady Newburys ball, you know the one thrown for their only daughter, a coming out of sorts. Oh you should have seen the dress she wore, Jude. It was absurd! She had so many peacock feathers plastered to her bodice-"

"Bridget, we all know Miss Newbury has a... unique approach to the gowns she exhibits."

"Right, yes." Bridget continued, drawing in a deep breath. "But later on that evening, Lady Winchester overheard Lady Belming telling Lady Scott that her cousin witnessed Mr. York sweeping Miss Newbury out to the balcony where the two were caught in a very compromising position."

Wide eyed and full of excitement, Bridget cautiously gauged Judes response.

Leaning forward, Jude slowly replied, "Was he attemtping to pitch her over the terrace?"

"Don't make fun!" Bridget stood abruptly, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "This is your groom to be. Think of how awful your reputation will look once you've wed a man who's name is being thrown out all across London along side the phrase _insert a cork in place of york._"

Fighting back a surge of laughter, Jude considered the gossip with an open mind. If Gabriel had in fact compromised Miss Newbury, the proper action would be to immediately marry the poor girl, leaving Jude to find a husband she adored and genuinely loved. According to Gabriels family however, their marriage was a flawless match and the couple would conceive handsome heirs and create a legacy of profitable assets. Jude wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"If it troubles you so much Bri, I'll speak with him on the subject tonight and hear his opinion."

"For your sake I think it's best," her sister replied.

"How's Tristan?" Jude questioned, hoping to steer into a more familiar conversation.

"I received a letter from him early this morning. He's staying at Billys Tavern."

"Billys Tavern?"

"Surely you've heard the reputation of that vile place? It is notorious for drunkards, half naked women bargaining their bodies, and opium smoke."

Sighing sadly, Jude recalled times when her brother never ventured out at ridiculous hours of the night, inhaling poison or possibly contracting a disease. Tristan had once been strong, emotionally and physically. In the time since their mothers death, he had faded into a hallow frame of his former self, depression crumbling down around him, causing mild hallucinations and violent fits of rage.

"I feel so helpless when it comes to him." Jude stated quietly.

"We all do," Bridget replied, pausing to lightly finger her mothers hairbrush, which sat delicately on Judes bureau.

The atmosphere in the room was thick and filled with sadness.

In an instant a much needed interruption came in the form of Judes chambermaid, Cassie. She was a short, round women who radiated warmth and comfort with every smile she offered.

"Miss Jude, I've come to tell you your Mr. York has arrived for supper and is presently waiting in the drawing room in hopes of speaking to you before the food is served."

"He's not _my_ Mr. York." Jude mumbled.

"We'll finish our talk this evening." Bridget said, making her way to the door. "I want every detail!"

She sent Jude a wink as she left, whisteling a tune their mother had sang to them as infants.

Cassie kindly stayed behind to assist Jude with her corset. It was stiff and constricting, binding Judes ribs so tightly she had to methodically plan her breaths. Her dress was a deep blue satin, trimmed in chocolate with a practical bodice and cinched waist that accented her small torso. She thanked Cassie twice and fought to control her labored breathing as well as her tense posture.

Pinching her cheeks into a rosy hue, Jude approached the door with a false sense of enthusiasm. Her fiance was expecting her and a lady was never late.

* * *

A pair of amethyst eyes appearing black as the night surveyed the walls surrounding the Harrison Estate. A devilish grin played across his features. He glanced at his hand, the missing tip of his forefinger a constant reminder of why he was chosen to carry out the slaughter. Inside those walls awaited the worthless Lord Harrison whose cowardous had cost his people years of bloodshed and bitter tears. _No more_ he silently vowed. Avengance invaded his thoughts like a clever mistress. He welcomed her shamelessly.

"When do we attack?" A familiar voice whispered from behind him.

"We don't." he replied cooly. Turning, he faced his most loyal commrade. "An assault such as this takes preperation. We observe, Marco. We wait."

A frustrated snort was his companions only reply.

"But what of his daughter?" Another voice rang through the dense fog. "She's to be married within the month."

Pointing his mutilated finger towards his temple, he stepped forward.

"Questioning my motives already?" he asked, a calm fire brimming in his gaze.

"No, sir. I m-merely-"

"You think I am an idiot! Once I have finished with that pitiful swine, I will take his precious daughter as a souvenir."

His men howled with approval and muttered words of encouragement.

Glaring daggers, he spun away on his heel. Yes, he would soon have glory and pride restored to his people. He would soon have the fair lady writhing beneath his as well, warm and utterly unwilling. He let out a short bark of laughter.

"We wait."

* * *

"Darling, I do wish you would have chosen a pastel yellow. Perhaps even a lighter shade of blue," Gabriel commented, briefly glancing in Judes direction. "You look so... Bleak and boring. So dark."

"I apologize if my appearance doesn't please you, Gabe." Jude replied sourly, taking satisfaction in the way Gabriel cringed at the use of his informal title.

"I've asked you to abstain from calling me by that name, have I not? Once we are married you'll do as you're told. Understand?"

Judes anger smoldered. "Quite."

She had secifically requested to be alone with Gabriel in the case that if an argument were to start she could forget herself as a lady for perhaps a moment and handle it as she had wished to. Nevertheless being companionless in the company of a man, betrothed or not, was definitely not practical. Gabriel had complained but subsequently gave in. Jude suspected he had high hopes of an intimate encounter, which was going to be gracefully rejected.

As usual Gabriel was dressed extravagantly in a powder blue vest paired with matching knee length breeches fringed with gold. He charged the air with a male dominance that was unsettling. Shifting uncomfortably on the settee, Jude rearranged her skirts and settled her gaze on the hearth. A fire the color of copper and titian grew steadily stronger.

Gabriel sauntered over to a nearby shelf and plucked a book from the dusty mantel.

"Why do you read this rubbish?" he asked, referring to her appreciation for Greek mythology.

"It's actually considerabely enlightening. You discover your way of thinking isn't ncessarily the only mentality that exists. You're introduced to gods, heroes, creatures, the nature of the world from a different perspective."

"Rubbish." Gabriel repeated, tossing the book carelessly back onto the shelf.

Jude came to stand by him, placing the book in its proper place. She took a step to the left and stood directly on his foot. Gabriel yelped in pain as Jude reflexively lifted her foot off of his swollen one, her knee making blunt contact with his groin.

"Oh my. Did I kick you? How awkward of me."

He glared at her, tears threatening to spill over the brims of his lower lashes. "How very refined you are."

She shrugged casually and approached the settee again. Once reoccupying her seat, Jude poured herself a cup of tea and sipped slowly.

"I suppose you wish to discuss Miss Newbury, " Gabriel remarked inanely, rubbing the heel of his palm against the top of his foot.

"I suppose I do."

"What would you like to know?"

"Have you compromised her?"

Settling his lazy gaze on her, he replied, "Would it break your tender heart if I were to say yes?"

_No but I may break something tender of yours for good if the answer is no_ Jude thought silently.

Gabriel studied her expression. "No. I never touched the woman. Lies spread all too quickly at those events."

"She is very beautiful." Jude said evenly.

"Yes, but her dowry isn't nearly as appealing as yours, my dear. Nor are her features," he paused, lightly running two fingers up Judes cheek, "such lovely bone structure."

Jude desperately wanted to recoil from his touch. It was cold and desolate.

"Supper is ready," a maid spoke from the doorway, breaking the contact of skin on skin. Jude quietly thanked the young maid for the interference. She boobed a quick curtsy and disappeared.

"Well, I'm glad we got that solved." Gabriel stated.

"I agree." Jude replied hesitantly.

As Gabriel went in for a kiss, Jude shifted her face, relucantly allowing him a peck on her cheek. Grunting words of disappointment, Gabriel strode out of the drawing room with no intent of escorting Jude to dinner after such a sharp refusal.

Contemplating the path her life was currently leading her, Jude wished heavily for a boring existence of spinsterhood and knitting. Having lost her mother at the peak of developing into womanhood, she felt anger at how vicious fate could be. Untimely deaths, unstable emotions, and one very unreliable older brother. Jude loved her family dearly, but she longed for the kind of quiet, normal existence that didn't seem possible for a Harrison. She wanted peace. Predictability.

Restlessly brushing her hands together, she realized something was missing, something she most certainly did not forget.

"My ring." she gasped, racing for the stairs, surveying every crack and crevice along the hallway.

Pushing the heavy oak door to her chambers open, she collided forcefully with a solid chest. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her securely. Struggling furiously, Jude pounded against her captor, balling her fists as tight as she possibly could as panic began to sink in.

Abruptly the man captured her jaw with his thumb and forefinger. She inhaled sharply. He was missing the tip of his forefinger. Jude felt herself flush as she stared into a pair of extraordinary eyes...intense dark green, almost black, with small flecks of gold around the pupils, shadowed by bristly black lashes. His gaze seemed to take her in, absorbing every detail. Every reaction.

"There you are," he said smoothly. Pivoting his hand around her mouth, Jude realized he was holding a cloth against her lips. Her vision began to fog and with every breath she took it became harder and harder to break free from his arms. Her limbs felt heavy, as if she were slowly sinking in a great mass of water. She felt herself being tossed over a thick shoulder before everything turned to dark..

* * *

Awakening under a weight of confusion and uncertainty, Jude slowly rubbed her dry lips together. A bitter taste took over her senses, her tongue felt thick and too big for her mouth. Glancing around the dimly lit room she observed the room posessed ample space and quiet luxury. Gilded, brown lacquered cabinets lined the walls. Tasteful sofas upholstered in deep red satin occupied a sitting room. An ebony desk piled with maps fit neatly into a corner and at the far end, a large bookshelf containing various models of weaponry.

Trembling, Jude lowered her legs from the big four-poster bed, her feet making contact with a cold hardwood floor.

"Awake finally," a low voice drawled from over her left shoulder. She remained silent and anxiously followed the sound of boot heels circling her.

"You slept for some time, " he spoke again, his voice huskier than before. "Side effect of the inhalant I administered to you, no doubt."

A slow hysteria bubbled up from within her throat. "Who are you?" she snapped. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why not?" he replied, the flat tone of his words forcing her eyes to meet his.

Confusion and surprise clashed in their gazes. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he knew her and was forming a time and place of recognition in his mind. Awareness flooded Judes thoughts while she took in his appearance. Long muscular legs clad in black leather, a matching black coat stretched snugly over his broad shoulders. His tanned neck was accented with a snowy cravat. A diamond stud glittered bewitchingly from his right ear lobe, drawing her attention to his glossy brown hair which was carelessly falling into his eyes. The crescent scar above his left brow made her gasp and step back impulsively. She knew of this man. This man was Thomas Quincy, infamous womanizer and privateer of the high seas. He was utterly dangerous, and he was utterly captivating.

"I don't intend to harm you, Miss Harrison."

"I don't believe you," she responded rapidly.

Smirking, he looped one of her golden locks around his maimed forefinger. "I merely wish to discuss some business with you."

"And if I don't comply?"

"A rough romp in the sheets may change your mind," Tom returned, raising the strands of hair to his nose and inhaling deeply.

She snatched her lock back, shooting him a look of full venom. "My fiance will be coming for me the moment he discovers my absence. I suggest you return me to port at once."

"I'm afraid I cannot, love, for you see we're only a short distant from our destination."

"Which is?" she asked, swatting at his determined hand.

"Isle de la Tortue."

Jude paused, her eyes growing as round as tea cup saucers. "Tortuga! Surely you do not intend to take me to that barbaric place!" she declared passionately.

"Oh but I do," he stated, inching closer while he attempted to get a hold of her. "Barbarians always find their way back home."

Twisting away from his efforts, Jude blinked, becoming aware that she had seemingly offended him. She recalled stories she had overheard from the housecook, virile claims of pirate seduction. Was this to be her fate? To be ravished by a heartless rogue?

"You're a worthless blackguard," she spat, hardly recognizing her own voice.

His pupils constricted and he gripped her upper arms. "Shall I prove it?" Tommy challenged.

His arm wrapped around her slender waist as he forcefully gathered her against him. Jude gasped shyly. The discomforting position was dulled by her private reaction to him. A slow smile curved his handsome lips.

"Have you nothing to say now? No words of malice?" he asked harshly, his warm breath brushing her ear.

"Please release me," she whispered.

"But I am a savage," he replied. "A monster who must be sated."

"I-I... a-p-poligize," Jude stammered, her heart racing with the speed of a thousand running horses. A light sweat began to develop over her heated flesh, beads rolling down the nape of her neck and in the valley between her breasts.

Tommy grunted and disengaged their bodies, whirling away from her to poor a glass of cognac. He threw his head back and polished it off in one swallow.

"Toby!" he called, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Sir?" A short, stout man with silver hair appeared in the doorway. He glanced in Judes direction, his expression tight and concerned.

"Escort Miss Harrison to her room. Prepare a bath and have Lucy sent to help her dress."

"I'm very capable of bathing and dressing myself." Jude informed him through clenched teeth.

Ignoring her comment, Tommy replied, "You'll find a variety of gowns in the wardrobe of your quarters," he hesitated, glimpsing over his shoulder directly at her bosom. "Although you may also find a few a bit _snug_ in some places."

"A gentleman would never!" Jude proclaimed. She pressed her open palms to the bodice of her dress.

Tommy grinned, a flash of white teeth. "As you've already decided, I'm no gentleman."

"I know what you are," she countered.

His smile broadened. "And?"

"And you can go to the devil," Jude returned, her voice laced with poison.

"Ah, we're the best of friends, love." Tommy approached her and eyed her curiously.

"Get away from me."

He chuckled, a low rumble of his chest Jude felt to her core. "You're having dinner with me this evening," he murmured, blowing lightly at small wisps of hair that had escaped her bun. "Do not worry, I'll behave as a perfect gentleman."


End file.
